


you're ripped at every edge but you're a masterpiece

by eggshellgirl



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 20:26:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5941969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggshellgirl/pseuds/eggshellgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellarke secret valentines for idontgveaneffie </p>
<p>AKA Bellamy and Clarke coffee shop AU ft. Halsey</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're ripped at every edge but you're a masterpiece

_**Sick of all these people talking, sick of all this noise** _  
_**Tired of all these cameras flashing, sick of being poised** _

  
Clarke knew that she was supposed to enjoy the life she had. She was supposed to be happy, she’d damn well worked hard enough. But here she was, standing outside a dingy cafe at midnight, her heart tied in knots and nooses that she knew she would never be able to undo.

It had been seven hundred and sixteen days ago since her dad had died. Seven hundred and sixteen days since she had last spoken to her mum. Seven hundred and sixteen days since she had last cried.

Clarke’s dad was the reason that she kept going, she was desperate every day to make him proud of her, and yet, unknowingly, he was the reason that she struggled.

Jake Griffin had designed the air filter which had, luckily, saved their planet from the eventual destructive path they were all leading it down. “ONE MAN AGAINST CLIMATE CHANGE”, the original headlines had read, and in the months that ensued, Jake Griffin became one of the most wealthy men on the planet.

Inevitable, then, was his assassination. That’s what the papers said, blamed the man for not hiring security or trying to disguise his identity.

Stupidity, they said, going out in public after he received death threats. As the heiress to the Griffin fortune, Clarke seemed the inevitable next pray for the blinding camera flashes. The leaching lenses, the blacked out vans that followed her seemingly into her sleep. 

 

 

Which lead her here, Angel Cafe, the tarnished gem hidden amongst the dark alleys of The Ark, a district preferred only by the delinquents and stoners. Perfect for Clarke, they were the only ones who didn’t recognise her in the streets.

The doorbell chimed as Clarke wandered in, this must have been the fourth or fifth time this week already, and Angel Cafe was quickly becoming her refuge from the media circus that surrounded her.

“Evening!” The tall guy behind the counter shouted over at her. And okay. Maybe he was part of the reason Clarke came here too. He towered over her as he took her order every time, brown curls exploding over his freckled face. “Bellamy” read his name tag, and Clarke was secretly pleased that his parents might be as messed up as hers by naming him that.

“Do you want the usual?” He called over to her favourite booth in the corner,

“I have a usual?” She replied, it was the longest conversation she’d had with him so far, and already Clarke was becoming uncomfortable. Maybe it was time to move along.

“You've had the peppermint hot chocolate the past three days now.”

Clarke couldn’t help but laugh at herself, how ingrained this fear was that even a conversation with an attractive guy put her on edge. His eyes twinkled.

 

**_You're ripped at every edge but you're a masterpiece  
And now you're tearing through the pages and the ink_ **

 

“So why Angel Cafe?”

It was Clarke’s eighth visit to Angel Cafe of the week, and she was slowly becoming to consider it a sort of home.

She understood it’s habits better than her own, and she’d barely have time to slip into her favourite booth before Bellamy (still attractive) would bring over her peppermint hot chocolate.

“Honestly?” Bellamy asked, his face blushing a slight pink. Clarke was surprised how _cute_ she found it, and momentarily forgot he was waiting on an answer, she nodded, now a similar shade of pink.

“It’s named after my girlfriend, well, ex girlfriend, girlfriend at the time. The one that got away I suppose, she went travelling and left me making peppermint hot chocolates for college students.”

Clarke laughed,cringing on his behalf.

“I wish I could mock you for the whole naming-cafe-after-girlfriend thing, but I think my final college art piece would disagree with you,” Clarke said, smiling down at her hot chocolate.

“Can I ask?” Bellamy’s eyes were tracing her face, and Clarke suddenly became aware of how alone they were in the cafe, and the butterflies in her stomach seemed to come back to life after all of these years.

“Lexa, a series of collages, named after the girl who broke my heart half way through the project.”

The mention of Lexa made Clarke shrink into her seat a little bit, but overall the experience was no longer painful, just a dull ache in the back of her mind.

“Yikes, sounds miserable,” Bellamy replied, and just as he was about to say more the bell on the door rang, a couple wandering in, arms locked around each other like a noose.

Bellamy shot Clarke a “what can you do?” look, and headed back up to the counter.

  
\------------

“So what’s your deal?”

Bellamy and Clarke had become regular fixtures in each other's lives, and they were, dare they say it, almost friends now? Clarke had begun to rely on the companionship Bellamy provided, even if it was just sitting listening to his stories of growing up in rural Boston, raising his kid sister. It was a distraction from the life she was used to.

“What do you mean?” Clarke shot back, almost defensive. She wasn’t in the mood to justify herself.

“You know, slinking in here every night, letting me waffle on about Octavia, you never mention anything in your own life.”

“I prefer to stick to myself, thanks.” Clarke glugged down the dregs of her drink, collecting her bags and walking out.

“Clarke-” Bellamy called after her.

She was already out of the door.

\--------------

Clarke had avoided Angel cafe for a while, but now it had been almost a week and all she needed was somewhere to escape. Her mum was leaving message after message on her cell phone,

“Clarke I know this is hard for you but Kane and I are so happy with each other and I’d really like you to meet him,”

“Clarke you know your father wouldn’t want you shutting yourself away, please come over, come and meet Kane, I think you’ll really like him.”

The replacement stung Clarke to the core, Abby had barely left it a month after the death of Clarke’s dad before she started dating Kane, Jake’s co-worker.

The thought crippled Clarke, and before she knew she was going out she found herself at Angel Cafe.

\-----------

“Hey, I didn’t think I’d be seeing you in here again,” Bellamy was behind the counter, hair messy, eyes bright.

Of course he was.

“Can’t get away from that peppermint hot chocolate of yours, obviously.”

Bellamy brought her drink to her, but then hovered at the counter rather than sitting with her, and with Clarke’s back to the window she heard the intruder before she saw them.

“Clarke Griffin?”  
“Is that Clarke Griffin?”  
“Miss Griffin?”

A man in a beige flat cap was oggling her from the doorway, smartphone poised to get the money shot.

_Billionaire heiress slumming it downtown._

“Excuse me sir, I’m afraid you’ll have to leave.” Bellamy came from behind the character, glancing over every second at Clarke’s ever shrinking frame.

“But I just want a drink!” The intruder shouted, camera still very much zoomed in on Clarke.

“Unfortunately we’re closed tonight for a private event.” Bellamy muttered, edging the man out of the door slowly, before closing it shut and pulling down the blind.

“Clarke Griffin, huh? I thought I recognised you from somewhere, your hair is a giveaway, you know.” Bellamy nodded at her, watching Clarke slowly rise from the corner of her chair.

“The lady herself, far less interesting in person, I’m afraid.” Clarke replied.

“I’m not sure about that,” Bellamy was watching her softly, as if she was a caged animal, desperate to escape.

“Seriously though, thank you for that, I really appreciate it.” Clarke met his eyes for a moment.

_God, he was attractive._

“I mean, it wasn’t entirely unselfish” Bellamy said, smirking at Clarke.

“Really? What can I do for you?” Clarke answered, vaguely disappointed.

Bellamy was maybe going to be just like the others, ask for a photo, ask for her to pay their college debt. Maybe he wasn’t the guy she thought he was.

“Stay for another drink. Let me pay this time.” Bellamy was sitting across from her now, their knees almost touching underneath the table.

“Honestly? That sounds amazing.” Clarke reached out and touched Bellamy’s hand, and he held it there. Captivated.

 

**_You were a vision in the morning when the light came through  
I know I've only felt religion when I've lied with you_ **


End file.
